The Watchers
by RunningWild14
Summary: Jack wakes up at Nikki's, unsure how he got there, and a new case puts their friendship to the test.
1. What Happened?

Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.

"Mmm?" Jack opened his eyes.

THUMP THUMP THUMP.

His head hurt, like tiny little elves were inside his brain knocking it about with teeny tiny hammers. What had he had to drink?

Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.

And what was that making that noise?

He mustered the strength to glance in the direction of the insistent beeping and caught sight of the alarm clock.

6.30AM.

The alarm clock was going off at 6.30AM. WHO SETS THEIR ALARM FOR 6.30AM? CAUSE JACK SURE AS HELL DIDN'T…

He leant over the bed and shut it off. There - peace and quiet. Apart from all those tiny little elves still at work in his head.

It took him a good few seconds to realise that the alarm clock wasn't his, and he definitely was not in his room, or even at his flat for that matter. He froze. Where the hell was he? He was 100% certain he had not been in this room before…which could only mean…oh no. Oh no, no no no no no….he didn't…did he?

He looked down at himself and found he was only in his boxers. Well, at least he still had them on, and he slept like this at his own flat, so it didn't necessarily mean…

Where was he? And who had he been in bed with?

He searched under the covers beside him to double check. Nope, nobody there. So he was alone? Ok then.

He got up and scanned the room for his clothes. WHERE WERE HIS CLOTHES? He had a brief moment of panic before he found a pile of clothes on the floor.

He rummaged through and found his jeans, and hopped about trying to get them on quickly. He found his shirt and was half way through getting it over his head when he spotted something.

Flung over a chair in the corner of the otherwise spotless bedroom was a small brown leather handbag. But it wasn't just any old small brown leather handbag with one long strap and a series of engraved patterns on the front. No. He knew exactly whom that handbag belonged to. He saw her with it every single day.

Nikki.

Jack was suddenly aware of everything in the room. He spotted the phone lying on the bedside table, the several jackets hanging on a hook behind the door...the _smell of her_. It was all hers. And he'd woken up in Nikki's bed in just his boxers.

He didn't know what he was angrier about – the fact that he'd probably slept with Nikki, or that he couldn't _remember_ it.

This was bad. This was very, very bad. And where the hell was she anyway?

He finally managed to pull the shirt down over his head, realizing he'd been stood there with a shirt half on for a good few minutes.

Nikki had moved home after somebody had shot through the door of her last place, and then well, tried to kill her after framing her for murder hadn't quite worked. They'd not anticipated Jack, Clarissa and Tom being set on proving her innocence. And they certainly had not been prepared for Jack to be so angry about it. Nikki hadn't felt entirely comfortable going back to that place after that, even when the case was over. Jack had offered to come in with her after he dropped her off that night but Nikki had been so god damn stubborn (she always was) and tried to put up a front that Jack had let her go. Just as he was about to leave he saw Scott arrive. He sat outside and waited…just to see if she was ok, well that's what he'd told himself anyway. He lived in denial that he'd really waited just to make sure Scott didn't _stay_. 10 minutes later Scott had left. Jack smiled.

Good, he thought.

 _Thanks Jack,_ Nikki had text him. He remembers leaving quickly, uncertain if she'd seen him waiting there from her window, or if she was saying thanks for his help throughout that particular case. Either way he was paranoid she knew something, and left in a hurry.

Jack hadn't been inside Nikki's new place before, and he certainly hadn't been in her bedroom before…well, until now. He'd picked her up for work when her car had been at the garage for a service but that was all.

BANG.

Jack jumped. What the hell was that?

In hindsight it hadn't really been that loud. But Jack had a hangover and was particularly on edge about the whole situation. He finally opened the bedroom door and cautiously peered round. Should he call out for her? He settled for stepping out of the room and going in search of her instead. The first door he came to was obviously the bathroom. He could smell her shampoo radiating from the room, and the humidity levels around him rising. He wasn't entirely sure what the scent of the shampoo was (he'd been trying to work it out for a few months now. Its scent had become somewhat addicting, and in the end he'd put Nikki down to a L'Oreal kind of girl). She'd obviously got up to have a shower, but the light wasn't on, so she wasn't still in there.

Jack had found his way into the kitchen to find Nikki with her back to him, trying to clear up a mess of spilt tea on the side. She'd obviously been creeping around so she didn't wake him, and had tried a bit too hard to be sneaky that she'd knocked over her mug of tea. She was trying to mop it up with a tea towel when Jack cleared his throat.

She spun round quicker than he'd expected and he took as step back, his arms coming up to the 'I'm innocent' stature.

"Oh god Jack, you scared me." The tension left her and she smiled before grimacing at the sight of him. "Are you ok? You look like death."

"Uh…yeah. I could use some paracetamol…" He murmured. It really was a lot brighter in here than it had been in her bedroom and the light made him squint a little.

Nikki fetched him some paracetamol and ibuprofen and poured him some water.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" She asked. She seemed so casual about the whole thing, which made Jack more uncomfortable.

"No." He swallowed the tablets in one go. "Alarm."

"Oh…sorry!"

"Who sets their alarm for 6.30AM?" He groaned, trying to inject some humour into the situation.

"Pathologists?" She offered in response. Jack raised his eyebrows at her. "Ok, maybe it's just me."

Nikki sipped her freshly made tea. She wasn't a coffee person in the mornings. She'd tried, but she had always been aware of the impacts that strong caffeine had on the body– and had smelt too much strong coffee in stomach contents before during autopsies before, that it really put her off first thing in the morning.

Jack watched her. She really was short without her shoes on. She stood in front of him in those jeans he loved her in (the ones with the stripe down the side), a white t-shirt with floral chiffon blouse over and black socks. Her hair fell in natural curls and waves around her shoulders, and her eyelashes were already coated with a thin layer of mascara.

Suddenly she seemed nervous.

"Um…Nikki?" He hesitated, "Did we…?"

Jack gestured to the bedroom.

"Sleep together? Yes."

He didn't know how to respond. He just stood there with wide eyes like a deer caught in the headlights (so to speak).

Nikki giggled.

"But if you meant sex, then no. That didn't happen."

Oh thank god. Not that he was entirely relieved, but it wasn't exactly the way he'd imagined things to go with her.

He sighed and smiled at her awkwardly, "So…how did I end up here then?"

She giggled again. She was mocking him, and enjoying it and he suddenly felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.

Nikki put her tea on the side and began making him some. With her back turned to him she started to explain, "You turned up here at about 1am, drunk out of your mind. I assumed you'd been fighting because your face…"

Jack reached up to his head…ohhh that's why his head hurt the way it did. He'd been cage fighting and split that weak spot just above his right eyebrow again. It'd been taped up with those little white strips.

"You lost?" She asked.

"Uh, yeah…I think so. I can't really remember." Embarrassment overcame him and he found himself leaning on her kitchen counter.

She turned to glance at him with a knowing look in her eyes and a smirk on her lips.

"Well you came here, stumbling and slurring and in a mess, so I patched you up." She gestured to his forehead, "And then you fell asleep on my sofa… and dribbled everywhere."

He glared at her. "Oh ha ha, funny."

"Did you know that you snore?"

"I do not snore."

"Hmm, sure, Jack." She placed his tea on the counter in front of him and made her way to her sofa. Jack followed, like a naughty schoolboy, and sat down beside her…but not _too_ close.

"Nikki, how did I get from here on the sofa, into your bed, and almost naked?"

She leant back and crossed her leg over the other, cradling her tea in her lap with one hand and the other reached up to brush her unruly hair out of her face. Now she looked nervous…really, really nervous.

"I woke you up and made you sleep in my bed…you don't remember that bit?"

Jack shook his head.

"Well I made sure you were ok and I was going to come back out here to sleep and you kinda stopped me." She offered.

Memories came flooding back to him.

He remembers crashing onto her mattress and fighting to get his clothes off, and her stopping him when he'd tried to wriggle out of his boxers…because…oh god.

He remembers her hands stilling his and his eyes meeting hers through the darkness, her silent whisper of "not like this". But he'd begged her to stay with him, and wrapped his arms round her waist as she'd tried to leave and…she let him. And when he'd gripped her for dear life, scared that she'd disappear she'd let her fingers slide through his hair until he fell asleep.

Jack quickly got up, and was back in her bedroom collecting his belongings in seconds.

She followed him.

"Jack?"

He was rushing to put his socks and shoes on, and find his phone…Where the hell was his phone?

"I'm sorry Nikki, I-"

"It's OK Jack."

And then Nikki's phone was ringing.

"Thomas?" She answered.

Jack stopped, after finally finding his phone and watched her face as she spoke to their boss.

"Alright, can you send me the address? Thanks."

She hung up and looked up at him.

"Body."

And then Jack's phone started to ring.


	2. Meeting Poole

The address worried Jack. It was a few streets over from his gym.

Nikki seemed to notice but was more focused on getting them to the crime scene in good time. They didn't know how long the body had been there and with every second they wasted stopping at red lights was a second somebody could be contaminating the scene.

Jack sat in the passenger seat beside her. He'd been silent for the whole journey, and well, since he realised he tried to have sex with her last night. Nikki understood. Things would be awkward between them for a few days, until he came to his senses and forgot about it.

She hoped.

The victim's face was badly swollen, bruises lining the left side. It was easy to tell that this was murder, and the victim had been beaten to death. She didn't even need to examine him. Instead she took photographs, disgusted at the scene in front of her.

Jack was putting his overalls on by the boot of Nikki's Audi when a tall broad man approaches him.

"DI Poole, you must be Jack Hodgson." He introduced himself, offering his hand.

"Sorry" Jack said, pulling his gloved hand away. "Can't risk contaminating evidence."

The detective seemed offended "Nice face."

Jack rolled his eyes.

Poole began to walk away when Jack caught him up. Together they found Nikki photographing the body.

"DI Poole, are you the pathologist?" He asked.

Nikki nodded, "That's me. Victim has been attacked by hand. This is a passionate crime. No weapon has been used, from what I can see. I would say cause of death is this blow to the head here but I will know more after autopsy" She gestured to the visibly cracked skull by the victim's temple.

"Geesh. You can't even see what he looks like. Getting an ID is going to be an absolute pig." Poole commented. "Any chance of a wallet or phone?"

Jack began searching the pockets of the victim. Nothing.

"Not on the victim, at least. I'll search nearby bins and drains, we might strike lucky."

The detective seemed unsatisfied with his response. "You really think you'll find it. In London? That blow to your head must have knocked something out of ya'."

Jack got to his feet. It's not long before he's towering over the detective, looking down at him through anger filled eyes.

"Jack." Nikki warns.

He looks down at her and nods before walking away to get on with his job. Today he would be the bigger man. He had more pressing things on his mind, like _Nikki_.

"Have many problems with that one?" Poole quirked.

Nikki swallowed her agitation and said nothing.

She watched as Jack climbed into a dumpster.

"Ah, my favourite place." His voice echoed around them.

It took her all her might to stop herself from laughing.

Back at the Lyell centre Poole watches Nikki and Thomas perform their routine autopsy on the as yet unidentified victim. The organs are all intact, except from his liver.

"Victim's liver is in early stages of Cirrhosis." She spoke into her EVP recorder.

"Anything useful, Dr Alexander?"

"In case you're not aware Detective Inspector, we have to be thorough, and not everything will be useful to the cause of death. Please have patience." Thomas interrupted.

Nikki didn't say anything but she was silently grateful for Thomas being his stoic, in control, self. She uncovered a stomach full of strong smelling alcohol, possibly spirits, and notes very little food.

"Stomach contents suggest the victim would've been highly intoxicated. Possibly too much so that he couldn't fight back." She commented.

"So a drunken fight over a girl goes wrong? Seen too many of those cases."

"We don't know that. It could've been premeditated. Let's take a look at what we do know. A right-handed assailant attacked him; we know that by the broken jaw and shattered temple on the left side of the face. Several blows to the chest have caused bruising, and we've got three broken ribs just below his heart, possibly caused by an elbow. Bruises to the neck suggest he was asphyxiated, and we have petechial haemorrhages in his eyes. I am confident cause of death was asphyxiation caused by strangulation, and not my previous speculation of the blow to the head. I'd put time of death at about midnight"

"Strangulation?" Poole asked.

"Yes, caused by the attackers hands. He gripped the neck from behind."

"So this fellas walking back from a bar, and some nut job comes out of nowhere and strangles him…"

"Not quite, the victim would've been face on first. Judging by the bruising on the victims knuckles it's likely that the attacker has some injuries to the face."

"Speaking of injuries to the face, where's Hodgson at? Has he got an ID yet?"

"Well we have a tattoo of a tiger but nothing else to identify him by other than dental records and finger prints. Clarissa is working on recovering CCTV footage. Jack's in the shower."

"Shower? Can he not do that on his own time?"

"Well, he did go dumpster diving this morning."

"Did he have any luck?"

Nikki shook her head. Thomas covered the body, and Nikki took off her gloves.

"Perhaps Clarissa is having more luck with the CCTV?" She offered.

Poole nodded, and left the viewing platform in search of someone named Clarissa. It wasn't long before he'd found her and Nikki was back at her desk writing up the autopsy report.

"Nikki!" Clarissa called from the other room. "We've got an ID."

Nikki found her at her laptop, with Poole leaning against the side behind her.

"How?"

"A woman called in a missing persons this morning matching the victim's description. Name's Andrew Dunn, he has a tattoo of a tiger on his arm, matching our victims." Clarissa paused, and caught Nikki's eyes. "Apparently he'd been cage fighting the night before and then went out for drinks with a few of the guys from the gym, although she's not sure who."

Nikki froze. She knew exactly what gym Clarissa was talking about, and from the look on Clarissa's face, she knew to.

"What gym?" Poole asked.

"On Francis Street." Clarissa replied and pulled up a map of the area on her laptop to show Poole.

Nikki closed her eyes. If Jack had been fighting last night chances are Jack knew the victim. There was even a chance he'd been the one who fought him and had given Jack that head injury.

In that moment Thomas entered and observed the tension in the room. "What's the matter?"

"He wasn't there last night, was he?" Clarissa asked Nikki.

Nikki inhaled and nodded "Yes...he was. And he'd been out drinking."

"Who?" Poole piped up, although it sounded more like he'd said ' _oo_?'

Nikki hesitated before saying…

"Jack."


	3. Interrogation

Nikki found him in the locker room. He was shirtless again, and she let her eyes fall over his chest for a few seconds before letting him know she was there.

"Jack?"

He spun to look at her. She'd been watching him? Brilliant. Another thing to add to his embarrassment. _Fantastic_.

"What's up?" He caught the look of worry on her face and stepped towards her.

"We identified the victim. Poole wants to talk to you. Now, Jack." She found his shirt for him and tossed it in his direction. "Get dressed."

And then she was gone again.

Jack looked down at the t-shirt in his hands and sighed. Today was going to be one of those days he'd later wish didn't happen.

As soon as he'd entered his and Nikki's office Poole has approached him. A 'stern look' didn't do him justice; he looked like a gorilla stalking towards him.

Jack's eyes found Nikki's. Just as quickly she looked away from him. She was uncharacteristically quiet. Something was bothering her and he wondered if it was him. But she'd seemed fine about it this morning? Perhaps it was the way he'd handled it? Jack didn't know but he sure as hell wanted to find out. And soon, so he could fix it.

"Jack, a word." Poole stopped just shy of being too close for Jack's liking. "First of all can you tell me how you got that…on your head?"

"He was cage fighting." Nikki responded for him, trying to diffuse the situation herself, but not really knowing how to.

Jack was now more confused than ever.

"Is that true? Cage fighting seems an odd hobby for a forensic scientist to have."

"What's your point?" Jack crossed his arms and stepped towards him, intimidating him. "If you've got something to say to me, come out and say it."

Jack got dangerously close to the DI's face and it was Thomas who intervened next.

"Jack, the body we found this morning has been identified as Andrew Dunn. Does that mean anything to you?"

Jack backed off Poole and turned to face Thomas, who had just come out of his office and sulked into the room the way Thomas always did.

"No! Should it? For the love of God would somebody please tell me what this is about?" Jack could feel his blood start to boil, the same way it did before he worked out, or got in the cage to fight a man. Adrenaline started to kick in and he threw his arms up, frustrated.

"I don't like your attitude son." Poole commented. "I think you need to come to the station."

"Excuse me?" Jack had really raised his voice now.

"That's not necessary." Thomas interrupted again. "He'll tell you everything he knows in my office. Won't you Jack?"

* * *

Nikki watched them through the glass from her desk as Jack was interrogated by Poole in Chamberlain's office. It wasn't often that Nikki would openly say when she didn't like a police man or woman, but this was one of those times that she'd be more than happy to say "Poole's a dick." And that wasn't language she'd use lightly. But he was, and she didn't like him.

Although, she wasn't entirely sure she could trust Jack at the moment. Last night he'd been very out of character. He'd been so drunk and so unaware and she'd let him hold her. In her bed. She'd been worried about him, and she was still worried about him.

She raked her brain trying to find something that didn't put him at the scene, but she couldn't. And yet she knew he didn't do it. She knew Jack…or did she? She didn't know anymore.

 _Right_ , she thought, let's start with what we know; He came to her house at about 1-1.15am. He was drunk, and he'd been fighting. It was the same story for the victim. So he must know him! How could he not know him? The victim died, by her estimates at about midnight, and she couldn't account for his whereabouts until 1am. And if his fight had been much earlier that night, why was he still bleeding when he turned up at hers? And why did he come to hers? To try to give himself an alibi? To sleep with her so she'd trust him?

Oh, she didn't know. She really didn't know. She needed to talk to him.

"I told you I don't know him." Jack insisted, trying to stay calm. But 'calm' was not in Jack's nature.

"Just tell me what you did last night." Poole was sat on the opposite sofa, with Thomas. From this angle Jack would have to turn around to see Nikki, and he really didn't want to bring her into it. If he could get away with not mentioning her name…

"I left here at about 7pm."

"Why so late?" Poole asked.

"Paperwork, and I hate leaving paperwork half finished."

"That's true he does. CCTV will back him up." Thomas said.

Poole glared at Chamberlain before turning back to Jack. "And then where did you go?"

"To get food, and then straight to the gym. I had a fight at 8.30pm."

"How often do you fight?"

"Once a week, sometimes once every two weeks depending on work. I train almost everyday."

"Why?"

"Release."

"So fighting makes you feel better?"

"I know what you're implying and I didn't kill him. I don't know him."

"Did anything happen at the gym that was out of the ordinary?"

"I don't know, I can't remember."

"You can't remember?"

"No."

"Well…how convenient. Do you remember anything else?"

"No."

"Nothing?"

"No!"

"And why is that?"

"I don't know!"

"Alright I think that's enough." Thomas tried to step in but Poole put his arm up to silence him.

"Dr. Alexander mentioned before that you'd been drinking."

Jack didn't know what to say. Nikki had said that? What else had she said?

"Yes I think so?" He almost questioned his existence at that point. It seemed everyone knew something about this situation and Jack knew absolutely nothing.

"And how did she know that, Jack?" Poole questioned, sitting forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

Oh God. He knew.

"I don't know. Maybe she smelt the alcohol on me this morning?" Jack offered.

Please believe that, he thought. Please for the love of Jim Belushi's nipples believe that. He couldn't bring her into it and put her career on the line. It would embarrass her and him and Clarissa would start to ask questions and Thomas would wonder if he could trust them and it…it just wasn't necessary.

"She smelt it on you…hmm." Poole was out of Thomas' office and stood next to Nikki at her desk in seconds.

" _Shit!_ " Jack followed him.

Thomas sat where he was and watched as Jack left. Jack's reaction had said it all. And now he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do next. Reprimand them? He couldn't really. They'd known each other a whole year longer than he'd known them and…was that really _his_ job? He could get someone else to talk to them…

"Dr. Alexander could you tell me how you knew Jack was drinking last night, only he seems to have had a temporary memory loss."

Nikki's eyes met Jack's again, silently begging him for the answers. She didn't know what to say either. They'd not prepared for the questions. And nothing had happened anyway, but they knew people would think it had…and it almost had! And she couldn't prove otherwise.

"He-"

"CCTV footage is here!" Clarissa called.

 _Oh Clarissa. You little darling you_ , Jack thought.


	4. Do Your Job

"And…here." Clarissa pulled up the CCTV footage of the road in which Andrew Dunn's body was found. "This was taken from The Little China Café on the corner of the road where you found Andrew at 11.47pm."

Clarissa, Nikki, Jack, Thomas and DI Poole watched as Andrew stumbled past the camera, followed by a tall figure in a dark hoodie.

"Just for the record, that's not me. I don't do hoodies." Jack commented. Nikki shot him a look.

"We can't see his face though. Any other cameras on this street?"

Clarissa shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

"So I can't prove that that's not you Jack." Poole quipped.

Jack was tired, and he'd had enough. He headed back over to his desk and grabbed his jacket. Without saying anything he left.

"Jack?" Nikki called, following him.

Poole turned to Thomas. "Are they sleeping together?"

"I couldn't possibly say." Thomas felt awkward, but nobody would ever know because Thomas was _always_ awkward.

* * *

Outside the Lyell Nikki caught up with Jack, her hand grabbing at his elbow. She spun him round to face her. He wasn't quite with it; she could see in his eyes that he was tired. Probably because he'd not slept for very long the previous night.

Jack looked down at her. She was shivering. It was cold outside and she'd not bought her jacket with her…or her key card, so she wasn't getting back into the building easily.

"Nikki I think it's best you stay out of this."

"Stay out of what, Jack? Help me out here, because I have no idea what's going on."

"Neither do I and that's the problem Nikki. I can't remember what happened last night until I got into bed with you."

She froze. Partly because she was cold, and partly because she knew their relationship had changed a lot, even though they didn't _sleep sleep_ together.

"Did you really not know him?"

"Not by name and to be fair, I haven't really got much of a face to go by."

That was true. Andrew's face had been badly smashed up, and they hadn't got a photograph of him from his girlfriend yet.

"You don't know the names of the people you fight?"

"No." He was looking into her eyes again "But Frank does."

Nikki knew who Greg was. She'd met him a few times before when she'd found Jack at the gym. Once when she'd gone to find him when she couldn't figure a case out and another when he wasn't talking to her and she needed to tell him she knew he'd broken a guys jaw and sent Ryan, his brother, down for it.

"Ok look, I can sort this out. At least, I think I can. Just…come back to mine tonight ok? We'll talk this out."

And then Nikki was gone.

Jack didn't know where to go. And where was his car? He'd driven it to the gym last night…

* * *

"Look while I'm sure Jack finds it flattering that you've got this thing against him, you have nothing to put him at the scene at all. All you have is they trained at the same gym together, and both had some form of alcohol last night. That's a pretty small case." Clarissa was doing her best to put Poole in his place when Nikki returned.

Poole has his hands on his hips, revealing the gun he had strapped to his belt, and Thomas was leaning on the side behind Clarissa.

"Your boyfriend left town then?" Poole quipped at Nikki when she entered the room.

"Jack didn't do it. He was with me from 1am until we arrived at the scene together this morning."

She caught Clarissa's knowing look.

So you are little more than just colleagues then?" Poole was suddenly very interested in Nikki and what she had to say about the matter.

"My point is he wasn't wearing a hoodie. He was wearing the same jacket you saw him in this morning – the same jacket CCTV will have him leaving the Lyell last night wearing."

"That's a good point." Thomas said while leaving the room. "I'm going to speak to security, get you those tapes Poole. Then we can clear this little misunderstanding up." He called, and then the door clicked shut behind him.

"You can also talk to Frank, at the gym. Jack doesn't know any of the guys he fights by name but Frank will and it should help with working out Andrew's whereabouts last night."

"Are you a detective now Dr. Alexander?"

"No, but you're not doing your job too well now are you?"

Clarissa bit her lips. That certainly told him. She was secretly proud of Nikki in that moment.

"I'm going to run his finger prints and dental records to see if we can get a photo."

"Thanks Clarissa."

Nikki slumped into her desk chair as Poole left. This was all one big mess, and she really didn't like it, and on top of that her and Jack were caught in a moment they weren't sure how to define.

"If there's anything you want to talk about let me know." Clarissa called to her.

She smiled. Things would get better.


	5. Shloer

The doors clanged shut with force when Poole arrived at Jack's gym. He wasn't all that surprised to find Jack whacking a punch bag about with some brutal force, but he was a bit put off by his power. Perhaps he shouldn't purposefully rub him up the wrong way. He looked very strong. When Jack had his shirt on he couldn't see the definition in his muscles, but Jack was now shirtless, with his muscles flexing away and Poole wondered how much damage he could do to someone. What did a pretty little Doctor like Dr. Alexander see in him?

Jack hadn't noticed Poole arrive. He was too focused on the bag. It was only when tiredness got the better of him and his punches slowed to a complete stop that he recognized the man talking to Frank in hushed tones.

"We think Andrew Dunn was murdered after attending a fight here…do you know him?

"Uh…yeah. He's dead? Shit mate."

Frank had been hauling blue mats across the floor to put in a pile. He'd had a class of young lads in here this morning, all with their dreams of becoming the world's most feared cage-fighter.

"Can you tell me about him?"

"Can't tell you much to be honest, just that he came here every other day to train, fought here every other week. He wasn't the best fighter in the world. Although I s'pose that goes without saying if he's now dead eh?"

"His girlfriend reported him missing this morning, she seems to think he went for post-fight drinks with a few guys from this gym."

"Yeah yeah, a few of the lads often go for a cheeky little drink afterwards."

"Could you tell me their names?"

"Um…Gibb, Paul and Terry I think were the ones he usually goes off with."

"And they all know each other well?"

"That lot do yeah."

"Do you have their details?"

"Yeah I think so…somewhere…I'll get 'em for ya."

"Wait…" Poole stopped him from leaving before he was finished. "Did he know Jack Hodgson at all?"

"What Jackaboy? Nah don't think so. Jack's my best fighter. He stays focused, doesn't really interact with others ya know. It's the best way to be. You can't really get to know the competition – it makes fighting 'em a lot 'arder."

"Ok thanks." That wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it didn't clear his name yet either. He sighed and let Frank go in search of the three's details. It was then he that he saw Jack watching him from a bench.

He said nothing, he didn't move, didn't blink…Poole knew he was staring him down.

He wanted to prove that Jack did this. He just needed more time.

* * *

"Ok so finger prints turned up nothing and this man seems to have had no dental treatment at all. Which is strange because I'd expect to find something." Clarissa whirred over to Nikki's desk. She hadn't moved since Poole left over two hours ago and Clarissa was starting to worry.

Nikki hadn't been paying attention. She seemed lost in a world of her own.

"Nikki."

"Hmm?" That had snapped her out of it.

"Is everything ok?" Clarissa asked.

"Oh…yes, I'm fine." Nikki sat up, and pretended to be looking through paperwork. "Sorry I was thinking, what did you say?"

"Finger prints…nothing, he's not on the system, which is fair enough. But he hasn't got any dental history. Like, nothing at all. This man has never been to the dentist. In fact, I can't prove his existence at all. Andrew Dunn can't be his real name."

"What?" Nikki's forehead furrowed. What could that mean?

"All we have to prove his identity is a phone call from a girl who says that's his name. And she's not been in to identify him yet. Not that that would help, he hasn't really got a face."

"So you're saying Andrew Dunn doesn't exist?" Nikki took the piece of paper Clarissa was holding and stared at it. The words NO MATCH mocked her.

"No, I'm saying Andrew Dunn isn't his name."

"So who is he?"

"Ok thank you Dr. Alexander."

* * *

Crap. That was not the news he wanted to hear.

Poole jammed his phone into his pocket and sat back in his Honda. So he had a body with no face and no real identity, and a phone call from a girl who wrongly identified him as Andrew Dunn. He had an angry Irish forensic scientist as a suspect, and he's sleeping with the lead pathologist on the case, and he has whole team of people at the Lyell centre that'd protect him even if he had done it. This was not going the way he needed it to go, and he wasn't going to get that promotion unless he closed this case quickly and efficiently.

* * *

It'd been a very long day.

Nikki kicked off her shoes close to her front door and made her way into the comfort of her new house. She liked this place a lot more than her previous flat. It was brighter, modern, and made her appear more 'sophisticated' than she probably was. It made her chuckle sometimes that people thought she was incredibly posh. She wasn't. She'd quite happily play a game of snooker, drink a beer and eat a pizza with Jack, and she had done on many occasions. Nikki wasn't always boring.

She'd been thinking about Jack all day, trying to work out for herself why he'd come to her, drunk, in the middle of the night.

She poured herself a glass of Shloer sparkling white grape juice and switched on her TV. The 6 o'clock news should be on shortly. She checked her phone. Nothing. Not even a text from him. She sighed, and locked her phone just as it beeped. Enthusiastically she checked it. Was it…no, it was Thomas, ' _Hope all is OK_.'

Nikki let herself fall onto her sofa and sipped her grape juice. She wiped her eyes, probably smudging her mascara, but she really didn't care at this point. Her hair felt tangled but she couldn't be bothered to sort it. And then she heard a knock at the door and she really wished she'd brushed it.

She knew it was Jack before she even got to the door. Only Jack knocks on a door like _that_.

She opened the door. He stood there, rain dripping down his face. It was raining? When did it start raining? She hadn't noticed. It took her a while to realise she was blocking the way for him to come in and she stepped aside, with an apologetic smile.

"Thanks." He murmured.

He was wet, but not soaked. She watched him take is jacket off, kick his shoes off and felt a pang of familiarity. _Last night_ …

Jack stood in front of her awkwardly. He really was tall, even without his shoes on and Nikki felt an unfair disadvantage against him without her heels on to lessen the height difference. She knew he could carry her without strain and the thought both enthralled her and worried her, a little.

"You, uh…wanted to see me?" He said, mimicking a schoolboy stood in his headmaster's office. In fact, he recalls saying that to Thomas not so long ago. Chamberlain would make a rather impressionable head teacher. He'd thought the same of Leo, not so long ago.

"Do you want a drink?" Nikki asked. "Non-alcoholic this time?"

She immediately regretted saying that and grimaced. "Sorry."

"It's OK. I don't really remember." Jack responded.

"Does that not worry you, Jack?"

"Yes." He said quietly, under his breath. It was so quiet that Nikki almost missed it. She gave him a sympathetic smile and made her way to the kitchen. She was getting him a drink whether he wanted one or not.

When she came back she found Jack watching the news. _Mystery Body Found_ rolled across the bottom of the screen.

"Mystery body? I thought his name was Andrew…"

"Ah…yes well, we're not so sure what his name is anymore."

"Why didn't you tell me this?"

"You didn't answer your phone." She offered him the drink she had in her hands.

Oh. Right. She'd called him a few times and he'd not answered because…well, he didn't really know what to say to her.

Jack sipped. "Mm, no, eurgh, what the hell is this?"

"It's Shloer."

"Schlerr?"

Nikki was giggling at him and he couldn't help but smile at her. She looked adorable when she giggled – even with smudged mascara and knotted hair – although Jack wouldn't tell her that.

She sat down beside him and offered to take his drink away, but he shook his head and sipped away. He liked it really. He just wanted to see her smile.

"Poole came to my gym today."

"And?" Nikki asked.

"Frank knows a guy called Andrew Dunn that goes to my gym but was adamant that I'd not known him by name."

"Good, at least that's something else that suggests your innocence."

"Did anybody really think I was guilty?"

"Poole does, but I think that's because he doesn't like you. Obviously." Nikki offered.

"Right." Jack nodded. She was probably right. Not many policemen liked Jack. He was too…well, right. "And did you?"

"Did I what?" She tried to avoid the question by getting up to find the remote. The news was loud, and had now moved on to talk about Jeremy Corbyn and Nikki wasn't too into politics.

"Think I'd done it?" He sat up.

"No." She shook her head. Jack raised his eyebrows at her. "OK, OK." She put her hands up in defence. "I wasn't sure."

"Great. That's great. Thanks." He stood up, and Nikki moved to block his way. "Erm, excuse me?"

"Where are you going?" She looked sorry. Really sorry.

"To put my glass in the kitchen?"

Oh. He wasn't leaving. She hadn't really offended him. Good.

She let him past and tried to forget about the way he brushed against her as he moved. She could smell how damp he was from the rain, and felt even guiltier for making him come over again now.

It wasn't long before he returned to her and she wasted no time asking him, "Why did you come to me last night?"

Jack stopped.

"Nikki…" He sighed. He wished he knew. "I don't remember. I just remember you sorting this out" he gestured to his forehead "and then…"

"Falling asleep in my bed?"

"Yeah. That." He smiled and bit his lip. "Nikki I'm sorry for…"

"Jack it's ok." She stepped towards him. He was suddenly overwhelmed by her presence. His mind raced back to how he'd been so quick to get out of his clothes and was about to take his boxers off when she'd stopped him. He remembered her hair falling over his face, her hands stilling his at his hips. He remembers her eyes almost sparkling in wonder and excitement but rationality kicking in and her whispering 'not like this' against his sternum. He remembers her getting up to leave and him grabbing her waist, his arms encircling her and pulling her back down beside him. He remembers her giving in, and letting him hold her. There was nothing wrong with just holding her right? He remembers her hands running through his hair as he fell asleep surrounded by the scent of her…but he doesn't remember what brought him to her in the first place, or where he'd gone after his fight. He hadn't killed anyone - which he was certain of.

But Poole certainly thought he had.


	6. Northern Irish

Jack and Nikki arrived separately the next morning. It'd taken Jack all he had to leave her last night. He'd so wanted to stay, but as she'd said the previous night 'not like this'.

Jack was at his desk nursing a mug of sweet tea when Nikki finally arrived. She smiled at him and sat opposite him. Neither of them said anything. They both knew today would bring more problems and time was pushing on to ID their victim correctly. Poole was still set on pursuing the gym and fighters as his only lead, and Jack in particular. They knew there was a chance Thomas would suggest Jack stayed away from this case until they'd solved it. But they also both knew that would be pointless, he'd stay involved anyway. Just like he had with Ryan's case.

Clarissa hadn't found anything more useful. It was hard to prove someone's identity when they were dead and had no clues as to their real identity.

It wasn't long before Poole has arrived, and Thomas has let him in. Jack prepared himself for more verbal abuse.

"Jack. One of your fighting friends puts you in the cage with our victim Andrew Dunn on Tuesday night." Poole stated, crossing his arms.

Thomas sighed. He was still carrying his briefcase and his jacket was slung over his other arm.

"OK." Jack remembered the face of the man he fought, remembered his eyes…and now that man was dead and he was the lead suspect. Isn't life wonderful?

"Don't you have anything to say about that?"

"Other than I'm sorry he's dead? No. I didn't really know him."

"But you saw him at the gym yes?"

"Yes a few times. He was new, had only been going a few weeks, if that."

"How'd the fight go?"

"I lost."

"Funny, because Frank says Andrew Dunn was a poor fighter and that you were one of his best."

"Oh…really? Awh." Jack put his hand on his heart and mocked flattery.

Nikki glared at him.

"Do you have anything else useful that we can work with detective?" Thomas quipped, raised eyebrows. Nobody liked this Poole. At least, nobody at the Lyell centre liked him.

"We know Andrew Dunn wasn't his real name, but we can still put this man as a regular at Jack's gym. His mates say they all left for a drink after his win at the local bar. They put you at the same bar that night too, Jack."

So that's where he'd gone. But why?

"I don't remember that."

"Maybe we're missing something." Nikki suggested.

Jack nodded in agreement. "Perhaps there's something at the scene I missed?"

"Oh, no. No way. You are no longer getting anywhere near this case." Poole looked incredibly frustrated.

Jack sighed. It was a matter of time before either Poole or Thomas said that to him. He didn't put up much of a fight - there was no point.

"That's a bit of an overreaction don't you think?" Nikki asked.

"No offence, Dr. Alexander but you're not exactly trustworthy…"

"What are you implying?" Jack glared at him.

"I think you both know what I meant." Poole retaliated.

Thomas was getting irritated by all of them and debated telling Jack to go home but instead settled for telling Poole to build a better case and disappeared into his office. Nikki smirked. When Thomas had had enough of the detectives, they knew things were getting heated.

Nikki had realised that she didn't really care what people thought about her and Jack. They were friends. Really _good_ friends. And they just so happened to come very close to becoming more than friends, but it didn't make them unprofessional and nobody could prove anything about them at all.

"You're not being much help Jack. I've got two guys that put you in the same bar as our victim minutes before he was seen entering the street he was killed in. The same man that beat you to a pulp in a cage earlier that evening. And all I get from you is 'I can't remember'." The fake Irish accent he adopted to impersonate Jack made Nikki cringe. It was awful – and southern Irish and Jack was quite obviously _northern_ Irish.

Jack ignored it, he knew better. It wasn't the first time someone had impersonated him badly.

* * *

Nikki and Jack pulled up in the street where Andrew Dunn was killed. Jack sat in silence next to her again, and it took Nikki nudging him for him to realise they'd arrived. They got out of her car and approached where the body had been found.

"There." Jack pointed to the CCTV camera that was now so obviously visible outside The Little China Café. He'd had dinner from there a few times before or after fights.

Nikki acknowledged it and positioned herself were the victim was found, trying to see what she could've missed.

"He walked round this corner here. And CCTV suggests the killer didn't return back this way after Andrew was murdered. So…" He searched for possible alleyways or escape routes but found none. "He must have continued up the street to the end, where he can only go right, which is back towards the gym."

Nikki followed him. It wasn't long before they came across a drain. Jack looked down it and spotted something glinting in the light. "Aha bingo!"

Nikki rolled her eyes and watched as he put his gloves on. He lifted the drain cover just as two teenage girls walked past. They gave him a strange look and started giggling as he stuck his hand down the drain.

"Phone!"

Nikki smiled at him. Only Jack would enjoy bins, drains and sewers. And she wasn't even embarrassed by it anymore.

* * *

It didn't take long for Clarissa to hack the phone, and this time they didn't need to enlist the help of her husband Max…even if Clarissa had wanted to for a brief moment there.

"Text history suggests he has a girlfriend called Zoe." Clarissa informed.

"The one who called in to report him missing?" Nikki asked.

"Yes. Although I do find it strange that nobody's spoken to her?"

"Poole seems to think it's not important. She wasn't there when he was killed and didn't seem to know anything that could help."

"But she's not been here to see the body?"

"Not yet. Perhaps she's still digesting the news?"

"Or perhaps somebody needs to go and talk to her."

Nikki nodded. "That will be me then."

"I'd go with you if I could!" Clarissa called after her as Nikki grabbed her coat.

* * *

Jack had disappeared after they'd returned from the crime scene and Nikki still had no idea where he'd gone. She'd called, but just like yesterday had no answer. She'd debated leaving him a message, and then decided against it. He'd call her if he needed her.

She knocked on the girlfriend's door. "Zoe?" She called after 20 seconds and no answer. "Zoe?"

She heard the chain being put on the hook and soon after the door cracked open. A timid woman appeared, peering through the gap.

"Hello, my name's Dr. Alexander…I'm hear to talk about Andrew."

"Go away." She replied and shut the door quickly.

Nikki stepped back. OK. That was weird.

"Zoe?" She knocked again. No answer. "Zoe I'm not leaving."

She waited there for a few moments before the door opened fully.

"What do you want?" Zoe asked, fresh tears in her eyes.

"I just want to talk about Andrew."

"OK." She let Nikki in. The flat was small and dark, and it was obvious that Zoe hadn't been looking after herself since the news of her boyfriend's murder.

Nikki sat down with her in the living room.

"We have reason to believe that Andrew wasn't his real name, were you aware of that?" Nikki asked.

Zoe shook her head. "No. But he was a very mysterious person. He didn't talk about his family…ever."

"Do you have any idea who would want to hurt him?"

"No." Zoe choked, and tears spilled down her cheeks. "But his friends seem to think it was related to cage-fighting."

"OK." Nikki nodded. "Could you elaborate on that for me please?"

Nikki was gentle with her. She always was with the deceased's loved ones. She could imagine what they were going through. She'd felt that way when Leo…

"Well, sometimes people put money on the fighters to win, like gambling."

Nikki couldn't help but wonder if people had been putting money on Jack.

"The guy he fought the other night is a favourite of gamblers, and his friends were worried that he might have been murdered because…because Andrew won." Zoe burst into tears and Nikki reached out to her.

"It's OK. It'll be OK. We'll get who did this."

"Even if it's the forensic man? Jack?"

Nikki faltered.

"Jack didn't do this." She protested quickly.

"And how do you know that?"

She hesitated.

"I just do."

"Oh I see…you love him." Zoe shook her head in disappointment. "I think you should leave."

Nikki couldn't reply.


	7. Winning or Losing?

When Nikki got back to the Lyell centre she found Jack in the changing room, shirtless.

Why was he always shirtless? He had his back to her and for a moment Nikki was grateful he couldn't see the blush rise to her cheeks. Jack really had definition. Even his back was a turn on.

"Do you not have a shower at home?" Nikki joked.

Jack jumped a little and shook his head. "You really shouldn't creep up on people."

She giggled at him and leant up against the locker next to him. "Where have you been?"

Jack pulled his boxing gloves out of his locker and presented them to her. Ah, of course. Whenever she didn't know where Jack was there was only one place that he would be – the gym.

"You know for a man who keeps himself in good shape you eat _a lot_ of pizza."

"It's my weakness." He was close to her now. She would step away from him but she was already wedged against the locker. All he had to do was take one step closer and he'd engulf her. She anticipated it, and was a bit disappointed when he didn't. Instead he stayed exactly where he knew was close enough to make her want more but not too much that she pushed him away.

"I spoke to Andrew's girlfriend." Nikki broke the silence that had fallen over them. "She mentioned that people who come to watch you boys fight-"

"Men." Jack interrupted.

"Men fight," She corrected. "That 'the watchers' place bets on you."

Jack nodded. "It happens in every sport yeah."

"She claimed you have a reputation for being the best fighter and seems to think that you losing is why Andrew was murdered."

"It's possible, but highly unlikely." Jack stepped back from her, allowing her space to move away if she wanted to. He was silently pleased when she didn't.

Instead she stepped closer to him. "You never told me that you were the best."

He smiled down at her, "I'm not, I just never lose."

"Apart from the other night you mean?"

 _Oh that did it._

In seconds he'd engulfed her, lifted her from the ground and pinned her against the lockers. She wrapped her legs round his waist and gripped his shoulders – it was all she could do to regain some control. Soon his lips where at hear ear, "I think I still won something, don't you?"

She was shocked to say the least. This was the second time she'd found herself in his arms in the last 48 hours and she was struggling to recall a time she'd ever felt this alive.

He put her down, but made sure to do it so it left her wanting more, and he left the locker room, putting his shirt on as he walked away.

She took 10 minutes to calm herself down.

* * *

After lunch Nikki was back at her desk finishing off the autopsy report. Jack was opposite her. He'd barely looked at her since they sat down. Not because he was angry with her, but because he knew that if he did he wouldn't stop there, and that was a very dangerous thing to do, especially at the Lyell. He'd already pushed the boundaries with her (not that she seemed to be putting up much of a fight) and he couldn't push her further…not just yet anyway.

When the call came in it surprised her.

Another body had been found, another man beaten to death in the streets nearby the gym, except this time nobody had found him right away. He'd died during the night, Nikki was sure of it after examining the body. Blow fly eggs suggested he'd been dead for over 12 hours.

They identified him as Paul Herringbone. This time Jack had recognized him.

Poole was keen to know where Jack had been the night before and wasn't surprised to learn that he'd been at Nikki's until about 9pm. He had no alibi for after that.

During the whole autopsy Nikki was hoping to be able to state that Paul's time of death was before 9pm.

But she couldn't.

"Estimated time of death is again, around midnight."

Jack sat at his desk with his head in his hands. This really did change everything. Two men from his gym, two men that he'd fought with, had been murdered in two days.

"Jack. Go home." Thomas begged. "You're too close to this."

Jack said nothing, grabbed his gear, and left.


	8. Just Friends?

"Nikki." Thomas appeared in the doorway of his office. He gestured for her to enter, so she got up and followed him, letting the door shut behind her. The blinds rattled against the glass and she immediately knew why he'd called her in here.

"I want to talk to you about Jack." Thomas stated.

She nodded in reply. She knew what he wanted to know.

"Are you…" He didn't know how to put it without sounding intrusive. If there was one thing that Thomas Chamberlain had learned since joining the Lyell centre it was not to say the wrong thing to Nikki, Jack and Clarissa. Unfortunately for Thomas he almost always said something to put his foot in it.

Nikki could see the internal battle going on inside his head and helped him.

"We're just friends. Nothing more. I would tell you if we were."

"Ok." Thomas was about to say she could leave when something came to him. "Why did he go to you?"

Her hand was on the door handle when she turned back to face him. "I wish I knew" She looked sad. "Perhaps he just needed a friend…"

* * *

She couldn't get Thomas' question out of her head. Why had he gone to her? She couldn't very well ask Jack because he'd keep up with the 'I can't remember' and at this point she believed he truly couldn't remember. Especially when he'd woken up at hers the morning after with genuinely no clue how he got there.

She was worried about him. Well actually, worried was an understatement. If someone was killing cage-fighters then Jack's life was at risk, and she knew exactly where he'd be right now - in the centre of it all…at the gym.

Nikki didn't find him at the gym. In fact she didn't find him at all. She checked his flat, no answer. So she went home, it was getting really late and she was tired and hungry and all sorts of emotionally drained.

She saw his car when she pulled up in her driveway. So that's where he'd been. She mentally slapped herself for wasting her time checking the gym and his place; chances are he'd been waiting outside her house for a long while now. She knocked on the window of his Jeep and he got out without commenting. They were inside in minutes and Jack repeated his actions of the last two nights by kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket. This time however, he was the one that made them both drinks – of the hot, soothing sort and he found her watching the news again. It was the same story as last night, except now they had two bodies and the heading ' _Serial killer_?'

Why did most of their murder cases end up with more than one body? In fact, in most murders it ended with two or three. If they were really unlucky there would be more. Jack thought back to all those poor Syrians who'd been purposefully locked in a van in the middle of the woods, thought of the little boy who'd died in his mother's arms and took a deep breath.

Nikki had once said to Thomas that she and Jack had one very important thing in common. Sometimes they let their work get to them. And sometimes that was OK. They'd come back from it, and they'd come back stronger.

They sat on the sofa in perfect silence, just watching the news. And then the news was over and some drama was starting and Nikki just let herself fall back and her eyes closed. A few seconds later she felt his arms around her, and instead of pulling away, instead of resisting, she let herself fall deeper into him and she let herself sleep.

Jack sat with his arms around Nikki on her sofa until the television had automatically gone onto standby mode. He checked his watch; almost 11PM. Nikki had been asleep with her head resting on his chest above his heart for nearly four hours.

It was probably time he should move her.

Carefully he moved his arms down to wrap under her knees and lifted her gracefully into the air. It took him a few moments to remember where her bedroom had been and he was placing her into bed a little while later. He paused. He probably shouldn't undress her. He settled for just letting her sleep, and he himself crashed down beside her.

She awoke in the middle of the night. She checked the clock beside her bed; 3AM. She wasn't surprised to find Jack asleep beside her, his arm draped loosely around her waist. She turned to face him and snuggled deeper into his embrace. She felt his arms pull her closer. And then she was asleep again.

The next morning they were both woken up by Nikki's phone shrilling.

"Hello?" Her voice cracked. She was still half asleep when she realised what she was being told.

"OK, send me the address."

Jack didn't even need to ask.


	9. I Turn To You

At least now she knew. She knew it wasn't Jack. It sounded awful for her to say in her head, because another man was dead but it couldn't have been Jack. He'd been with her the whole night, from 6pm to 7am and he was still with her now. He'd come to the crime scene with her, even though he'd been asked not to. Nikki had tried to stop him, but he wasn't having any of it. He needed to know whom, and he needed to know how and he needed to find the bastard responsible.

This time the body was right outside the gym. Frank had found it upon opening up, and called it in. He'd recognized him instantly as James Gibb.

"I thought you were supposed to be at home?" Poole demanded to know why Jack had come along. Jack glared at him.

"You listen here, I've had just about enough of your bullshit." Jack was in his face and this time Nikki let him. Poole had definitely gone too far now. "Three guys I knew and fought with are now dead. And before you even ask where I was last night I have an alibi." He gestured towards Nikki.

She sighed. "It's true. He was with me all night."

"From when?" Poole asked.

"6PM."

"Time of death?" He asked observing the body.

"From rigidity and condition of the body I'd say about 9-10PM last night."

"So his MO has changed."

"Same sort of attack but yes, I would say so."

"Fantastic."

"Excuse me?" Jack had really had enough now. "Look I get it, you had your money put on me being the killer and now you know that's not true, don't you think it's time to move on to, oh I don't know, finding the _real_ killer?" It took Jack a lot of self-restraint to stop himself from pushing Poole to the ground. But he knew how it would make him look and he wasn't about to dance to his merry tune.

"Jack?" Nikki called.

On the ground not too far from the body was a ripped piece of cloth. Jack walked away from Poole, leaving him shaking and focused on bagging the red material.

"I've got red fibers under the finger nails here."

Jack gently pulled the fibers from under the nails and bagged it. "Hmm…what do we say to these being a match?"

"Highly likely." Nikki and Jack worked away at the scene, completely oblivious to the fact that they were being watched.

"I've got white powder here…yep that's cocaine." Jack looked up at Poole, who had managed to calm himself.

"Drugs? Could this actually be about drugs…"

* * *

The autopsy revealed no new damning evidence, apart from the fact that James Gibb had cocaine in his blood stream, and remnants of the drug in his nose hairs.

It was Clarissa who had worked her magic, and related the red cloth to a red boxing glove. Whoever the killer was, he was beating them to death with boxing gloves. Jack had presented Poole with his, and it was clear that wherever this fabric came from, it had not been Jack's gloves.

It was Clarissa who'd managed to identify the first victim by comparing his dental records with nearby dentist surgeries.

"His name is Terrance Kirk." Clarissa announced.

"Terrance Kirk…" Poole repeated.

"That's what I said, yes."

"No….Terry was one of the names Frank gave me, and I haven't been able to track him down."

"That might be because he's dead."

"Andrew Dunn is not Andrew Dunn. Andrew Dunn is Terry Kirk, and Terry Kirk is Andrew Dunn." Jack noted.

"That's not confusing at all." Nikki put her head in her hands.

"Then where the fuck is Andrew Dunn?" Poole asked.

* * *

It didn't take them long to locate him, he was at Zoe's flat, where they also found the boxing gloves with torn red fabric matching those of the killers. They also found thousands of pounds worth of cocaine.

Unknowing of his true career choice Zoe had called to notify the police of her missing boyfriend and the police had linked the missing person to the dead man Nikki and Jack had examined that morning. They'd been linked by the tiger tattoo, when in fact the man they'd found dead was Terry Kirk – Andrew Dunn's partner in crime. They were both a part of the same drug cartel. It became clear that both James Gibb and Paul Herringbone had been killed because they'd known too much about Terry's murder and the cocaine. The man they'd seen on CCTV in the hoodie had in fact been James Gibb, and not the killer. The other two had already entered the alleyway the way Jack had suggested they'd all left, where they met a stumbling Terry there, ready to attack him.

Jack vowed to never drink too much again. He'd been punishing himself for losing a fight. He'd seen the other fighters drinking and laughing at him. The way they mocked him…all of them socializing together as he sat in the corner drinking his sorrows away.

Clarissa had managed to source CCTV footage from outside the bar. The footage showed Jack leaving, followed by the real Andrew Dunn. Dunn had proceeded to punch him until Paul pulled him away. They had better things to do – like kill their friend Terry.

That's why he went to Nikki.

He needed her to make him feel better, to patch him up, to fix him when he was broken, because Jack had moments of weakness. And as Nikki said to Thomas – he _always comes back_.

And this time he did.

He was back.

And they could move on from this nightmare of a case.

* * *

Nikki didn't expect Jack to find her that night, and she wasn't surprised when he didn't. A little part of her hoped he would, even though he was back to normal. She found herself admitting that she liked it when he needed her. And she knew he liked it when she needed him.

So Nikki continued to pretend that they were just friends, and that was all they ever would be… _just friends_.

But a few days later she arrived home from work, after having a few quiet days with no bodies…Yes, no bodies, to find flowers on her doorstep. They were so beautiful, and she crouched down to see who they were from. Nikki found the small card and opened the envelope.

 _Turn Around._

So she did.


	10. Epilogue

Beep Beep. Beep Beep. Beep Beep.

Huh? Oh no. Oh no. Please no. It's not morning already? Why? Why…

"Seriously woman with that God forsaken alarm!" Jack groaned, bringing his hands up to rub the sleep from his eyes.

He really was a big baby sometimes.

Nikki giggled and sat up, shutting off her alarm. 6.30AM. Every morning she got up at this time (if she hadn't already been awake) and Jack was new to the concept of alarm clocks. If he had it his way he'd sleep all day every day and never wake up. Nikki had raised her eyebrows when he'd suggested that and told him he'd have plenty of time to sleep when he was dead. He'd rolled his eyes but eventually agreed with a half hearted 'true.'

It was still dark outside, which made the get up harder. Especially when she had a half naked man in her bed…and that man was _Jack_. She decided to take the luxury and snuggled back down next to him, pretending not to catch his knowing smile as she did so.

Jack groaned again. "I'm sooo tired."

Oh for goodness sake man, get a grip. Jack was at the best of times like a teenager and it amused her more than she'd care to admit. He rolled towards her, big bear arms coming to wrap around her waist. He placed a small kiss to the top of her head.

"Probably because you didn't sleep much last night." She smiled up at him.

His mind raced back to their antics the night before. He smirked. Yeah, that might well be why, he thought.

If he'd known that flowers where the way to Nikki's heart he'd have bought her them a long time ago.

When he'd first met Nikki 5 years ago (back on the Briggs case) he'd imagined what she looked like first thing in the morning, what she was like to wake up to. He'd allowed himself the guilty pleasure of envisioning it. And when Leo had asked him to join the team permanently he'd jumped at the chance to work with her everyday.

He'd taken her down into London's sewers on their 'first date'…always the romantic! She'd not been overly keen on the idea but when he was down there with her, he wanted the world to disappear. Only Nikki could make being in London's sewer a turn on.

Jack had always liked Nikki, and he was sure that had been obvious to everyone around them at the time. But he also felt a little out of his league. She was Dr. Nikki Alexander - in his opinion the best pathologist in the UK, and he was…Jack.

Jack was pulled from his reverie when Nikki reached up to kiss him.

Yep, this would do.

He didn't waste any more time questioning the wrongs and rights of it, and just let himself get caught up in _her._ He was falling in love, and that was OK. That was great, actually.

Yep, this would do.


End file.
